Sodium One: A Major Malfunction
by ThisGuyHere
Summary: Salt Shooter sounded like the perfect way to keep the people occupied- action-packed warfare, but not against humans, providing a vital outlet for all the pent-up feelings of anger without the guilt of actual war. Until something goes terribly wrong, someone is killed, someone's responsible, and feelings about the game change. Suddenly, it's not a game anymore.
1. Chapter 1: Research

**Sodium One: A Major Malfunction**

**By ThisGuyHere**

**Summary:** Salt Shooter sounded like the perfect way to keep the people occupied- action-packed warfare, but not against humans, providing a vital outlet for all the pent-up feelings of anger without the guilt of actual war. Until something goes terribly wrong, someone is killed, someone's responsible, and feelings about the game change. Suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

-S1-

_Location: Salt Shooter Craft Maintenance Area_

"...so as you can see, Salt Shooter is one hundred percent safe for the pilot. Every craft comes equipped with a fully-functioning ejection seat, in case of critical, life-threatening damage."

"And is the ejection seat the only safety measure in effect?"

"Well, technically, no. There are several readouts and sound alerts-"

"Aside from them."

"Not counting early warning systems and federally-mandated seat belts, then yes, the ejection seat is the only pilot safety measure installed."

"And- hypothetically- just what would happen if the ejection seat was to fail?"

"That wouldn't happen."

"Humor me. Say it did."

"Okay. Well, first, you need to understand just what the ejection seat is. It's a pilot's seat which can be launched out of the Shooter craft by reduced-size rocket propulsion thrusters. It has its own fuel tank, as well as a way for the pilot to steer. Now, if the ejection seat was to fail in the sense that the thrusters never started and the seat never took off, then, if the pilot was skilled enough, then they would have approximately thirty seconds to a minute to leave the area of danger so that the built-in repair nanobots could work before the craft exploded from damage, judging by the level of damage required to activate the ejection mechanisms. If they could not get out in time, then the pilot would die as the craft exploded.

"If the thrusters DID start but something prevented the separation and takeoff of the seat, then the pilot would most likely be burned alive."

"Burned alive?"

"Burned alive."

"Don't you think it might be better to have another way of escape for the pilot, just in case the ejection seat DID fail?"

"Perhaps, but I'm not paid enough to make those decisions."

"And just who is?"

"I don't know. The parts manufacturers, the Salt Shooter Pilot's League, hell, maybe the government. You know how they've been pushing Salt Shooter ever since the Sodium Plains incident. Whoever's paying for it all, most likely. I mean, come on. Rebuilding Shooter crafts time and time again can't be cheap."

"True. Well, Mr. Anthony, thank you for your time. I'm sure I'll be able to use this information in my report."

"Hey, I'll be getting Credits, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course. The story should be published in a few days."

-S1-

A/N: Yep, it's official: I'm finally going to be doing something other than reviewing Portal stories on this site. This first chapter was hopefully enough to get you interested. Maybe not, seeing how it was mostly just a bunch of technical, unmarked dialogue, but hey, better than nothing, right? L:

-ThisGuyHere


	2. Chapter 2: The Office

**Sodium One: A Major Malfunction Chapter Two**

**By ThisGuyHere**

**Summary:** Salt Shooter sounded like the perfect way to keep the people occupied- action-packed warfare, but not against humans, providing a vital outlet for all the pent-up feelings of anger without the guilt of actual war. Until something goes terribly wrong, someone is killed, someone's responsible, and feelings about the game change. Suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

-S1-

_Location: Sodium Weekly Offices_

After returning from the Maintenance building, I walk into the offices of the newspaper I work at. Well, it's not really a newspaper anymore, seeing as how we've replaced paper with technology, but that's beside the point. I head into the elevator and begin my ascent to the 35th floor, where my colleagues are hard at work on whatever it is they've been assigned. I'm approached at my desk by my friend and fellow journalist, Nick.

"Hey Jim, me and some of the others were thinking about heading to Scorpio's after work today. You want to come with us?"

"I would, but I've got the feeling that I'll be pulling an all-nighter," I say dejectedly, holding up a good ten or fifteen Shooter craft schematics.

"Alright. I'll bring you your usual. What ARE you working on anyway?" Nick questions, giving my cluttered workspace a look.

"It's just a piece on Salt Shooter safety. I don't really think it'll be that important, but you know Larry: 'Every story counts, no matter how tiny and insignificant.'" I say, putting on a gruff voice to properly quote our boss, Larry.

"Say, doesn't he normally—" As if on cue, Nick is suddenly cut off by a gruff voice from the intercom. "Nick! Jim! Quit wasting company time and GET BACK TO WORK!"

Nick gets up from the chair he's brought over, and says, "Well, just make sure it's accurate- if people become afraid of Salt Shooter and no one comes to watch my tournaments, I'll have no way of funding my hobby."

"Even if I say participating in Salt Shooter games increases your chance of dying in a fire by a thousand percent, I doubt people will stop playing," I say with a smirk, knowing full well that most of Sodium plays Salt Shooter, making it one of the major parts of our economy. If Salt Shooter is shut down, all we'll have left is Sodium Two Jet Racing, and that is nowhere near as popular. Essentially, the entire settlement could collapse without the powerful presence of the Extreme Sport of the Future.

"Well, good luck, man. I'll be looking forward to your story." Nick says as he walks away. I turn to my schematics and notes, ready for another late night of newsmaking.

-S1-

A/N: Here it is, by absolutely no one's demand, the second chapter of Sodium One: A Major Malfunction! As you can see, I consider Salt Shooter to be a large if not the largest part of Sodium. I know that right now, Sodium Two is gaining popularity, but I don't see it as an equal to the original game just yet. By the way, there was a nod to Portal 2 in there. But it's slipped in so cleverly that you'll never be able to find it. Muahahahaha!

-ThisGuyHere


	3. Chapter 3: Coauthors

Sodium One A Major Malfunction Chapter Three

By ThisGuyHere

Summary: Salt Shooter sounded like the perfect way to keep the people occupied- action-packed warfare, but not against humans, providing a vital outlet for all the pent-up feelings of anger without the guilt of actual war. Until something goes terribly wrong, someone is killed, someone's responsible, and feelings about the game change. Suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

-S1-

Around schematic number 9, I started to get the feeling every Sodium citizen gets after a boring activity: a yearning for adventure. A craving for that danger, that on-the-edge-of-your-seat excitement that only one thing can satisfy: Salt Shooter. Unfortunately, I'd used up my Shooter break for the day, so all I could do was wait for-

"Hey Jim!" Nick says as he walks into the room, his cinder-block shoes stained with Scorpion blood. "I figured this would be the right time for a pick-me-up."

Nick walks up to my desk, and sets down a 44-ounce Grape Swirl with a strawberry and umbrella, my favorite Scorpio's drink.

"Thanks, man," I say tiredly. Nick notices and says, "Need some help? An explanation of certain parts of the craft? Maybe a first-hand interview with a pilot?"

"Come on, man, you know the rules. You have to submit the names of everyone working on the project when you put in the badge request," I remind him. "Isn't there some way to add colleagues to a project after the request's in?" Nick remarks, as I sip the Swirl. I weigh the pros and cons, namely having experience with the topic in the article and having a coauthor I work well with vs. getting yelled at by Larry. After a couple minutes of silence, I reply, "What the heck. Won't hurt too much, and the story'll be a much better feature in the next edition, so we might as well do it."

Nick grins and says, "Well, as my first recommendation as your coauthor on this story, I say we head down to Scorpio's and meet the others."

I grab my Swirl and head out with him.

Looking back, perhaps it would have been better if I had refused…

-S1-

A/N: Yep, a frustratingly short chapter. This is my first fanfic, so I'm not expecting it to be great, or get any reviews, as it's under Misc. Games. Still, for anyone who cares, it'd be nice to know that somebody somewhere is reading this and enjoying it. I've heard that reviews are more powerful than regular reads, follows, and favorites. I guess only time will tell.

ThisGuyHere


End file.
